


Funeral

by sweaterbarnes



Series: Multifandom Tumblr Ficlets/Drabbles [10]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crying, Ficlet, Funeral, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sad!Steve, comforting!Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-03-13 19:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3393023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweaterbarnes/pseuds/sweaterbarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Tuberculosis is a bitch,' Steve decided as he sat on the edge of his mother’s bed, looking through her old love letters to his father. 'It takes away everything good just because it can,' he thought bitterly, dropping the letters back in the box and sliding it back under the bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Funeral

**Author's Note:**

> Any text within apostrophes are thoughts that Steve has.

~~~~~~  
'Tuberculosis is a bitch,' Steve decided as he sat on the edge of his mother’s bed, looking through her old love letters to his father. ‘It takes away everything good just because it can,’ he thought bitterly, dropping the letters back in the box and sliding it back under the bed. He wiped the stray tear that had slid down his cheek and stood up, dusting off his threadbare suit and slipping into the trench coat that was two sizes too big for him, a month early birthday gift from Bucky because he couldn’t afford his own. Before he walked out the door he turned to give his mother’s room one last look, smiling softly at the familiar, worn rose wallpaper and the soft throw folded on top of the trunk at the end of the bed. He sniffed, straightened, and gently closed the door.

He opened the front door and, when he felt how warm it was, left the coat untied and his suit jacket open. As he trudged to the bar where he was going to meet Bucky he tried to avoid the sympathetic looks of the shop owners and people who passed him on the street. His mother had been well loved by the neighborhood and they all seemed eager to remind him of his loss with their condolences and constant comments of, “I’m sorry for your loss,” or, “Are you alright?” Stone-faced, he walked a little faster, ducking his head and letting his bangs fall over his eyes in an attempt to avoid the pitying stares and whispers. He slipped through the doors of the bar and sat next to Bucky, grabbing his friend’s beer and downing it in one go. They sat in silence for a while, neither feeling very up to talking. It was Bucky who finally broke the silence.

“Steve, get up. We have to go or we’re going to be late,” Bucky said gently, nudging Steve towards the door. Steve silently complied and they left the bar and started towards the church. It was a small church, kind of hidden away from the bustle of everyday life. A long, gravel path led to the front door and Steve had always hated how nervous that walk made him feel, now it just made that empty feeling that had been there since yesterday that much worse. He braced himself and pushed through the door, relaxing slightly at the familiar smell of candle wax and paper. He and Bucky slid into the pew closest to door and Steve nodded at the priest. Steve let the priest’s words flow over him as he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the sermon and not the fact that he would be burying his mother in thirty minutes.

After the sermon, they were led out to the cemetery. Steve began breathing a little faster and groped blindly for Bucky’s hand, needing to ground himself. Bucky gripped his hand and let Steve squeeze as hard as he needed to, not wincing once. They reached the grave site and Steve inhaled sharply at the sight of the wooden coffin suspended over the open grave, two grave diggers standing off to the side. Steve vaguely recognized them as two of the men his mother had nursed back to health. He could see the tears running down their cheeks but they weren’t making any noise. He tore his eyes away from the men and the coffin and looked at the ground, focusing on the blades of brass by his shoes and the words of the priest as he gave Steve’s mother her last sermon. She had been incredibly stubborn and refused to let the priest give the usual last sermon, instead writing her own over two weeks and making Steve give it to the priest last Sunday.

When he finished he patted Steve and Bucky on the shoulder and motioned for the grave diggers to follow him into the church. Finally alone, the boys stared at the freshly covered grave. Steve’s shoulders started to shake and he shoved his face into Bucky’s chest, finally letting everything he had been holding in out. Bucky just stroked his back and let him cry, a few tears of his own escaping as he closed his eyes and pressed his nose to the top of Steve’s head, exhaling shakily and holding him close.  
~~~~~~


End file.
